


So Far From Me

by KatStark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Voyeurism, robo!sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:04:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatStark/pseuds/KatStark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is just trying to take the edge off a long day with a hot shower. Sam has other ideas.</p><p>Amazing artwork in the middle of the story (extremely NSFW) by the incomparable badbastion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Far From Me

The hot water pounding down on Dean's shoulders gradually eroded the tension from the eight hour drive. He rolled his neck and shoulders and fantasized about a real massage, though admittedly, he'd never had one that didn't finish with a 'happy ending'. For now he was just thankful this motel had decent enough water pressure for a good shower, and the rest he could take care of himself. He was very happy for warm water on his skin and the privacy to do the other thing that contributed most to his relaxation and well-being.

 

He'd just gotten into a good rhythm of strokes with one hand, the other gently cupping and rolling his balls, when he heard the door to the bathroom open. Stopping mid-stroke and called out, "Hey! A little privacy in here. Didn't I lock that door?"

 

"We’ve been picking locks harder than that since we were eight," came the reply. “It’s wasn’t even a challenge.”

 

"That's not the _point_ , Sam," Dean's words were sharp, bitten off as all the tension flooded back into his body. "The point was that I wanted some personal time."

 

His hand flew away from his erect cock when the shower curtain was pulled back, and a very naked, very **hard** Sam stepped in to join him in the shower.

 

"The fuck, Sam?  No way!" He tried to shove Sam back out of the tub but it was like shoving a slick, naked, brick wall. "Get the fuck out!"

 

"What is the problem, Dean?" Sam regarded Dean with legitimate confusion. "It’s not like we’ve never done this before. We used to do this all the time when we were teens. In fact, you're the one who taught me how." Sam's hand slid down his flat abdomen to encircle his rigid cock. "It was a pretty "hands-on" approach to education, from what I remember..." Sam licked his pink lips and cocked his head to the side as he trailed off, lust blatant as his gaze toured Dean’s naked body.

 

"Fuck, Sam, we were kids."  Dean locked eyes with the soulless thing crowding into his personal space, the thing that had come back from the pit, the thing that used to be his brother. "I probably shouldn't have taught you like that. Okay, I definitely shouldn't have done it, but we're adults now, and adult brothers definitely don't have naked, shower funtimes together. So get. The Fuck. OUT!"

 

Sam just stared blankly at Dean in that maddeningly reptilian manner, continuing to stroke his cock lazily.

 

"Okay, fine," Dean conceded grumpily when it was clear Sam wasn't going anywhere. "You can have first shower even though I drove all day." He tried to push past Sam but the large man wasn't getting out of his way. If anything, he was crowding even closer into Dean's space.

 

"Sam, stop!" Dean's voice had a rising note of panic, but Sam's hand came up to Dean's chest and he shoved Dean back against the tile wall. One large hand circled Dean's throat as Sam held him in place while he fucked the other hand with increasing intensity.

 

Something about the way Sam had him pinned against the wall, thumb resting on his windpipe while Sam stared at Dean with an old, forgotten hunger had Dean’s cock blurting out precome like it didn’t know the naked man in front of him was his baby brother. But rather than give in to that want, Dean tried to focus on the fear. He didn't truly know what this Sam was capable of, and Dean wanted to feel anything other than the low twist of desire deep in his guts as Sam's enormous shoulders filled his vision and his harsh, panting breaths filled his ears. Eyes inky with lust stared down at Dean's naked body and Dean could see Sam's pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. Dean was still shamefully hard, though his hands wavered between being plastered flat against the shower wall and moving into a useless guarding position between their two bodies.

 

"Stay!" Sam snarled, lip curling, and sharp canines flashing as his fingers tightened against Dean's throat.  Dean went rigid in compliance and Sam smiled darkly as he felt the bob of Dean’s nervous swallow. "Good boy."

 

It didn't take much time for Sam's breathing to stutter and Dean felt his abdomen sprayed with Sam's scalding release. He kept his eyes locked on Sam's, not wanting to see himself painted with Sam's come, sickened by the twitch in his dick at the visual.

 

Sam smirked at Dean, removing the restraining hand and trailing his thumb along the older Winchester's stubbled jaw. He rinsed his hand casually under the spray and stepped out of the shower.

 

Dean gasped for air when the shower curtain pulled across behind Sam. His knees wobbled and he was glad that he was already leaning against the wall or he might have collapsed into the ancient bathtub. His heart hammered in his chest and he wasn't sure if he wanted to scream, puke, or cry. What he knew he could not do was jerk off to the thought of that thing with Sam's face and body, naked and pressed so close to Dean, even though his traitorous dick didn't seem to have the same compunctions.

 

All thoughts of relaxation long gone, Dean turned the water to icy cold and stepped under the spray.

  


Sam was running a towel through his wet hair, clad only in a pair of jeans that sat low on his narrow hips when Dean stepped out of the bathroom, shivering, with a thin towel wrapped around his waist. Dean cursed his lack of foresight at not bringing a change of clothing into the small room with him when he felt Sam's hungry gaze on his back as he dug through his duffel.

 

Dean jumped when he felt Sam's warm hand trail along the gooseflesh at his waist, making his skin pebble even more.

 

"You're freezing," Sam stated.

 

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Dean snarked, trying to bat the inquisitive hand away. Sam held him firmly, body entirely too close to Dean's, and Dean cursed under his breath as he felt blood rushing to the only area in his body he didn't want it just then. "C'mon, Man," Dean nearly begged as he felt Sam's enormous mitt slide across his abdomen and tease at the light dusting of hairs leading down. "You gotta stop. He would hate us for this."

 

"You act like he's not in here, Dean. I am him, just without a few of the barriers that keep him so twisted up inside. I can feel the pleasure he doesn't allow himself. And," Sam's hand dropped a little lower to unwind the towel from Dean's waist as he moved his mouth mere millimetres from Dean's ear, "I can help you feel that pleasure too."

 

"Don't," Dean protested, voice barely above a whisper, his eyes closed tight as if that would make himself, or, better yet, the world around him disappear. He just couldn't process the press of warm skin against his cold back, the hands that were guiding him to move across the room blindly.

 

"Open," came the command, and Dean obeyed without thinking, opening his eyes to the vision of his nude body reflected back at him in the room's full-length mirror. Sam stood pressed tightly against his back, his soulless eyes dark with something Dean couldn't name, but that sent blood straight to his cock. Dean could see the skin around his throat darkening with Sam's fingerprints and his breath caught at how much he liked seeing the physical evidence of Sam's touch. Dean felt completely untethered; all the carefully crafted rules that kept his life from spiraling into a larger mess than it currently was burned up like dried parchment under Sam's stygian gaze.

 

"Touch yourself. I wanna watch you get yourself off." Sam's growl was so low Dean felt it more than heard it, and his hand was on his cock before he was conscious that he'd even moved.

 

"Good boy," Sam repeated and Dean was uncomfortable with the buzz he got low in his balls every time Sam said those words.

 

Dean looked to the floor as the shame flooded back in. Fuck. He couldn't do this in front of Sam. Especially not _this_ Sam. Dean's hand faltered and he started to pull away from Sam until the larger man grabbed his jaw tight enough to leave more bruises, forcing Dean to meet the reflected green of his gaze in the mirror again.

 

"Did I tell you you could stop?"

  
 

The violence underlying Sam's words was so close to the surface that Dean felt himself begin to shiver until he felt Sam's fingers dig even tighter into his jaw, the bruising pain snapping him back to the situation at hand. Dean couldn’t help but feel the familiar need to follow orders, to satisfy the distant, enigmatic man in front of him wrapped in his little brother’s skin. Or maybe Dean just couldn’t stand to see the disappointment in Sam’s eyes, soulless or not. Dean returned his hand to his aching cock and the fingers imprinting his skin loosened perceptively.

 

"That's it, Dean. You're gonna touch yourself and you're gonna watch every second in that mirror. You're gonna see how gorgeous you are as you stroke that big cock of yours. See the way your skin flushes as you pant and gasp." There was a momentary break in Sam's monologue as he ran a wet tongue glide up the side of Dean's neck. "Yeah, that's it, big brother," he encouraged as Dean stumbled a little at the touch but didn't stop stroking his cock.

 

Dean cupped his balls and pressed the pads of his fingers into the delicious space just behind them, slowing his strokes a little then speeding up again only to repeat the tempo changes. He bit his lip as a moan escaped and Sam scolded him, telling him how much he wanted to hear Dean's sounds. Reminding him of how many nights they'd spent jacking it together but apart in countless hotel rooms, pretending they weren't completely getting off on the grunts and moans coming from the other bed.

 

"Fuck, Sam, the noises you'd make," Dean growled, his prick throbbing and pulsing in his hand at the memory. "I'd try so hard for so long to resist, tearing myself apart. I'd tell myself, 'That's your little brother, you sick fuck!' But I couldn't stop, and soon I'd be matching you stroke for stroke and paint the insides of my shorts in record time as I heard you try to muffle your orgasm in the pillow." He met Sam's slanted fox eyes in the mirror. "You were terrible at that, by the way. I could always hear you."

 

Sam's grin was dangerous and he ran his lips along the cord of muscle at Dean's throat, not kissing, just touching mouth to freckled skin. "That's because I wasn't actually trying. I knew you were listening and it got me off so hard knowing how crazy it drove you. I figured out pretty damn quickly that the more I pretended to stifle my cries, the faster you'd join me. There's nothing that gets my big brother harder than failing to resist temptation."

 

Dean's mouth dropped open to protest, but the words turned into a harsh cry as Sam sank his teeth into Dean's shoulder hard enough to leave a mark.

 

Leaning back against Sam's chest, Dean unconsciously tilted his head to give his brother better access to his neck. Dean slapped his dick sharply into the palm of his hand and against his belly a few times, the slight sting adding to the quicksand of pleasure he was slowly sinking into. Sam took the opportunity to sink his teeth into Dean's freckled skin a few more times, locking eyes with his older brother in the mirror.

 

Dean felt the dark coil of his orgasm pooling low in his balls, enhanced by the weight of Sam's flat, unabashed gaze. His brother's face stripped of everything but lust shouldn't have such an effect on him, but Dean was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to be able to resist anything Sam asked him to do again.

 

Dean focused on fast, swiveling twists with the pads of his fingers around the crown of his dick as he felt his climax building. His breaths were coming fast and harsh, sweat beginning to bead on his skin. Sam lapped at the moisture and Dean moaned as the firm, pink muscle caressed his flesh. When Dean's mind flashed to other places he'd like Sam to put that tongue to work, he was gone, spraying his release onto the mirror in front of them.

 

Thick, creamy streaks were running down the glass surface when Sam released Dean's jaw, nodding in approval at the mess. His hazel eyes were full of dark promise that made Dean's cock twitch and pulse out a last blurt of come. Sam leaned in so close that Dean could feel lips ghosting across the skin of his ear while Sam ran one hand down the curve of Dean's ass.

 

"Good boy."

 


End file.
